


Welcome Home

by Rilo



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-17
Updated: 2008-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rilo/pseuds/Rilo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The thrumming was there again, almost loud enough to drown out the bass line blaring through the air.</i> [Spoilers for end of series, incestuous implications.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I write Papa D's youngest son and the D Chris meets at the end of volume ten as being one and the same. This is not one of those times.

The thrumming was there again, almost loud enough to drown out the bass line blaring through the air. Again he tried to ignore it, focus on the blinking lights and the girl in front of him who wore glitter in lieu of modest clothing. Same old same old, except this time the pounding refused to subside, increasing in volume like Hitchockian violins.

He'd stopped dancing, his partner had put her hand on his arm accompanied by concerned words he couldn't hear, but now she was still with her eyes wide and staring at something behind him. His stomach sank and despite everything logical screaming inside his skull, he turned.

He saw himself. Same features, same impossible not-violet-dammit eyes, same Alexander smirk that graced his face in victory and earned him several bruises in school. The hair was different, dark as his was light and slicked back to keep it neat and tidy in a way his never was.

He opened his mouth to say something (perhaps a question, an accusation, a plea to make the roaring _stop_ before his brains splattered all over his doppelgänger's silk shirt) but his words died premature as the other cradled his head in longly-nailed hands and pressed their lips together.

His last thought, before the roaring turned screams drowned out all else, was that this living mirror didn't wear lipstick either.


End file.
